


Castles High

by Pepper (Zalt)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Challenges, F/M, thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 01:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18681670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zalt/pseuds/Pepper
Summary: Grand Admiral Thrawn and Governor Pryce run into each other during a formal gathering at the Alderaanian Embassy on Coruscant.  Thrawn admires the view. And so does Pryce.





	Castles High

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the May the Thirst challenge on the Thryce discord.

When the invitation from the Alderaanian senator arrived, Governor Pryce briefly indulged in the happy fantasy of declining it in favor of getting real work done. Then she suppressed a sigh and told her staff to RSVP polite acceptance. The influence of the Senate might be in decline, but Alderaan and its senator still commanded respect and had leverage in the right circles. It would not do to offer any perceived snub.

Her enthusiasm for the semi-formal party improved once she learned that the guest list was heavily slanted towards the true powers in the Empire. Moffs, ministers, high-ranking representatives of the military. And sector governors, such as herself. And at least this wasn’t another vapid charity event, begging money for missions of mercy. Perhaps Senator Organa was trying to bypass the pointless posturing on the Senate floor in the hopes of furthering his agenda with those who held real power; a respectable ambition, if a futile one.

 

* * *

 

The event was held at the Alderaan Consulate on Coruscant, a reasonable distance from her own office. As the speeder banked and turned to descend, she caught a brief glimpse of the distinctive attached gardens before they were obscured by the landing platform. There was a short wait as a higher priority shuttle took possession of the platform to disembark its passengers, and she spent it skimming through the dossiers of what few guests were not already known to her. As the speeder started to move again she put her datapad away and glanced at her dim reflection in the window, smoothing down a stray strand of hair.

One of the unsung perks of being an Imperial governor was no longer needing to worry about finding the exactly right dress and accessories for any occasion and company. A clean and pressed uniform was perfectly adequate. Some liked to use their own personal touch -- white or black uniforms, sometimes with capes. But Arihnda Pryce was entirely happy with the standard grey, and the quiet dignity and authority it conveyed.

The Imperial guests gathered in the grand foyer mostly echoed her choice of attire, filling the room with sombre shades of grey and black. Their Alderaanian hosts tended to paler greys and whites, though some wore earth colors and muted jewel tones that seemed almost gaudy in comparison to the monochrome majority present. Silent servants offered plates of frosted flutes with an effervescent teal drink to each arriving guest, and Governor Pryce helped herself to one.

A tentative sip confirmed her suspicion that it was Toniray wine, an exclusive Alderaanian beverage. She rolled the tingling bubbles on the tip of her tongue, considering the flavor. A decent vintage, of course, but something was slightly off about it, a blandness where there should have been a sting. Curious -- it seemed unlikely that Organa would knowingly serve anything other than the best to the Imperial elite. Filing this minor riddle away for later consideration, she decided to keep her drinking to a polite minimum, and looked around the room.

The curved main wall of the foyer was decorated with a mural showing a sweeping panorama of what were presumably mountains on Alderaan, capped with white snow against a bright blue sky. A castle off to one side reached towards the sky with tall spires, the coloring of the details echoing the bright greens of the forests below. At either edge of the fresco were trees drawn to life-size, realistic enough to create an illusion of framing a gateway to the view of the mountains.

Governor Pryce thought they might as well have put in a holo of the real thing and saved the expense and bother of decorating a wall that size by hand.

She was about to turn away when the ebb and flow of people caused the crowd to part briefly, and reveal a familiar figure standing at the far edge of the painting, leaning in close in apparent study of some small detail on one of the framing trees. Pryce considered her options -- there were more high value targets for her attention than the blue-skinned alien -- but finally she gave in to curiosity and made her way over to the mural.

“Grand Admiral Thrawn.”

When she addressed him, he turned away from the object of his study to face her. She caught a glimpse of some small, colorful creature, possibly a winged insect, before the view was blocked by broad shoulders in an immaculate white uniform.

“Governor Pryce. Always a pleasure to see you.” He bowed politely.

Pryce suppressed a smile. Apparently Thrawn had been in civilian circles on Coruscant long enough for some core manners to rub off.

“And you, Grand Admiral. Though admittedly something of a surprise; I was not aware you were on the guest list for this event.”

“A last minute invitation during an unscheduled detour of the _Chimaera_.”

Pryce suppressed a frown with an effort. Heads would roll among her staff for not keeping her up to date. She did not like surprises, especially not ones the size of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer.

“A fortunate coincidence, then. Senator Organa’s little get-togethers are usually worth a visit. I see you were enjoying the decorations.”

“In a manner of speaking. It is quite enlightening.”

Pryce looked towards the mural. Trees, mountains, a castle. Bland and pretty like most things Alderaanian. Thrawn followed her gaze, turning back to the artwork.

“The fluttering insect is a relatively recent addition. I suspect it was added at the same time as some object that used to be visible in the sky over the castle was removed.” He seemed ready to launch into a longer explanation, but there was a *ting* from the front of the room, and all the guests turned to face the sound.

As the host held his speech to welcome the visitors, the silent servants circulated among the guests, making certain everyone had a full flute of sparkling teal wine. Grand Admiral Thrawn started to decline the one offered to him, but when Governor Pryce shook her head minutely, he took the hint and helped himself to one after all. When the speech concluded with a toast to the Queen, he raised his glass and drank with the rest of the guests.

Pryce drank enough of her wine to be polite, but kept the flute full enough to prevent the attentive servants from offering to exchange it for a full one. She excused herself to Thrawn. “I should like to hear more, but I must go pay my respects to our host and make myself known to some of the guests. Perhaps afterwards?”

“Of course, Governor.” Thrawn nodded, and as she turned to leave she saw him help himself to another flute of wine from a passing plate. Apparently the Toniray had been to his taste.

 

* * *

 

Making the rounds through the shifting clusters of movers and shakers took more time than Pryce had expected, especially after a particularly obnoxious Moff cornered her to pontificate at length about his plans for revolutionizing logistics in the Empire. When she finally saw her chance to escape, she ducked into the by now rather noisy crowd, and for once was grateful that her short stature made it easy to vanish among the other visitors. She barely managed to rescue her still mostly full (but now entirely flat) flute of wine from a random elbow, and decided to seek the relatively quiet harbor of the less crowded bubble that always seemed to form around Grand Admiral Thrawn.

She found him not far from where she had left him -- he had abandoned his study of the bright insect, and was nearer to the middle of the mural. Where he was currently standing on tiptoe, apparently trying to get a good look at what to her seemed to be a perfectly empty patch of sky above the Alderaanian mountains.

“Grand Admiral?”

Thrawn tried to simultaneously turn to face her and lower himself from tiptoe, and failed spectacularly, tripping on his own foot to overbalance and nearly fall on top of her. Only at the last possible instant did he manage to regain enough control to merely destabilise her rather than bowl her over. With a hiss of surprise, Pryce steeled herself to remain on her feet, pushing him upright as best as she could. The remains of her flute of flat Toniray wine splashed onto the Grand Admiral’s previously spotless white uniform, leaving it patterned in pale teal splotches. Thrawn seemed entirely nonplussed by the incident, gesturing excitedly with his own flute that still held a fair amount of wine. Somehow, he had managed to keep it upright through his tumble.

“Governor Pryce! Come, you have to see this.”

Thrawn’s usually calm and low voice was raised with excitement. Where there usually tended to be a faint hint of a slur or hiss to some of his words, they were now crystal clear, with a sharpness that could put even the most upper-class Coruscant natives to shame. He was also speaking slower than usual, focusing intently on each word. In the manner, Pryce realized, of somebody trying very hard to disguise how drunk they were. How much wine could he have consumed in the time it took her to make her rounds? Were his people somehow oversensitive to alcohol? Surely the bland Toniray served would require heroic amounts to cause any intoxication.

“Grand Admiral, I am sorry about the uniform…” She was already looking around for a servant she could send to find some remedy for the spill. But Thrawn spoke over her, tugging at her arm to pull her closer to the mural. “Right there, above the castle, do you see?”

Pryce pulled herself free with a sharp tug, growling at him _sotto voce_. “Don’t do that!”

Thrawn blinked slowly at her, then looked at her sleeve, then back at her face. “Oh. Yes. Abject apologies. I am remiss in my manners. I beg you to grant me forgiveness.”

To her utter horror he went down on one knee in front of her, still perfectly balancing his flute of wine despite the unsteadiness of his descent.

“Oh, stars above… get up! You are drawing attention!” Extemporizing furiously, she raised her voice again. “That’s quite all right, Grand Admiral, I don’t need help looking for… that thing I dropped. Most kind of you to offer.” For a horribly long moment he stayed where he was, looking up at her with red eyes that were noticeably brighter than usual. She felt her face starting to heat up as a rarely-felt blush started its journey up from her collar.

But after a few seconds more he rose carefully, returning to his feet as he declaimed with utmost gravity: “Of course, Governor. You absolutely do not require assistance. Very clever woman. Resourceful. Can find things yourself.” He drained the rest of his drink, and looked around with a hopeful expression until settling on something behind Pryce’s back.

A servant had materialized behind her, and murmured an offer of assistance. Pryce put her empty flute on his plate, and moved with snake-like speed to intercept the blue hand that was reaching to exchange an empty flute for a full one. Keeping a vice-like grip on Thrawn’s wrist, she hissed at the servant. “I need someplace private. I mean the Grand Admiral does, to fix the spill.”

The servant inclined his head, silently leading them along the outskirts of the crowds towards an inconspicuous door leading deeper into the consulate. Governor Pryce let go of Thrawn but hovered behind him, lest he attempt to go anywhere other than where the servant was going.

 

* * *

 

The servant directed them to what appeared to be a guest room with an en suite refresher, before fading discretely from view. To the Governor’s great relief, Thrawn had kept quiet until they were alone. But no sooner was the door closed than he spoke softly, gazing at her face with undisguised admiration.

“You are radiant.”

“I beg your pardon?” She stared at him.

“Your face, radiant with heat. Like a flame. Red flame. And blue, blue eyes, the color of the deepest glacier. Fire and ice. Warm and cold. Courage and reason.” Long blue fingers drew some kind of complicated glyph in the air between them. “Hair as dark as the night. There could be stars hiding in it.”

He reached for her hair as if to examine it for any lost stellar objects, and Pryce quickly took a step back. “Quite so, Grand Admiral, but why don’t we take care of those stains first, before they set?” She gestured at his formerly white jacket, and nodded in the direction of the refresher.

Thrawn looked down at the teal splatters. “Good pattern. Weak colors, perhaps good enough for aquarelle. No, hard edges would have been better.”

Pryce briefly considered making her excuses and returning to the party while Thrawn communed with his muse. But chances were he’d follow her right back out and cause another embarrassing scene. Better to give it some time and see if he started to come to his senses. And something, somewhere deep in her guts, twisted uncomfortably at a memory -- of being disoriented and lost on the evening of a grand fête, covered in the powdered polstine spice Moff Ghadi had thrown at her, knowing she could not return to the party for fear of being arrested. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward again, placing a hand against Thrawn’s back and firmly pushing him towards the refresher. “Time to get you cleaned up.”

 

* * *

 

Thrawn had responded compliantly enough, letting her steer him into the attached refresher, which was modestly furnished but large enough to hold them both without crowding. He had even taken his jacket off with a minimum of further prompting.

Despite its modest appearance, the refresher came with the luxury of water, rather than sonics. There were no laundry facilities; presumably the silent servants would take care of such things elsewhere in the building. Pryce considered calling for one of them to get the jacket cleaned -- but the material seemed sturdy enough for a cold water rinse, and it would give her an excuse to keep Thrawn away from the party for half an hour or so while it dried.

She carefully ran the stained part under a thin stream of water, relieved to see the stains slowly fading as she moved and angled the material to make certain she got all of the spill. Thrawn kept on talking while she did, happily enumerating all the virtues of her hair and eyes, her radiance, the gracious angle of her neck, her perfect size and shape… She grimly focused on her task, trying to tune him out. The hum of the hair dryer helped, when she found out how to place and tilt it so it could blow a steady stream of cool air against the damp front of the uniform.

So focused was she on getting the dryer to operate continuously without her hand on the activator that she didn’t even notice he had stopped talking. Nor the faint rustle of clothing being removed. Only when she turned around at last and looked right into a broad expanse of blue chest did she realize Thrawn had also taken his undershirt off, and was now holding it out to her.

“I think there’s a spot on this, too.”

_Pink nipples. Why does he have pink nipples when he’s blue…_ She realized her mouth was open, and shut it quickly, trying to look elsewhere. Someplace safe. She started to raise her gaze, noticing in passing that Chiss, at least this one, did indeed have some body hair. Then the thought of meeting his gaze triggered a rush of heat to her face, and she quickly lowered her eyes again. Oh stars, that stomach was all muscle. And a rather cute belly button, just above the top of the white pants. Something started tingling in the vicinity of her own belly button, fluttering with nervous wings and causing a pleasant shiver. “Hngrah… Uh, what?”

“The shirt?”

Quickly, she settled her gaze on the offered shirt. Held in a blue hand, attached to a blue arm, muscles shifting subtly as he raised it. _Nice_ muscles, a little voice whispered in the back of her head. _Very proportionate to that broad chest_.

She fought the voice down ruthlessly, and cleared her suddenly dry throat.

“Uh, no, that’s fine. It won’t show under the jacket, it will do until you get a chance to change. You can put it back on.” _Please. Because I would like to stop blushing now_ , she did not add.

There was a thoughtful silence. Pryce finally looked up, to see those overly bright red eyes studying her.

Thrawn spoke slowly, as he ran the thin material of the shirt between his hands, long fingers lingering briefly at a spot that looked no different from the rest of it to her eyes.

“Hmm. Slightly damp. It would be more comfortable to dry it, first.” He leaned past her to place the shirt next to his jacket, giving her a very close view of those broad shoulders, and a glimpse of a muscular back marked with a small starburst-shaped scar halfway down on one side. Then he straightened again, turning to face her.

Pryce forced herself to keep her eyes on his red ones, rather than letting them stray to the tantalizing expanse of blue. She suddenly wondered what it would feel like to run her hands down that back, feeling the smooth skin and exploring the raised scar with her fingertip. Would he feel warm or cool to the touch? Her fingers twitched, and she quickly clasped her hands at her back to keep them under control. “Quite. Shouldn’t take long. Are you… do you feel better?”

Thrawn took a small step closer, forcing her to lean her head back a little to maintain eye contact. The faint hiss had returned to his voice as he spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the dryer. “Thank you, Governor, I feel much improved. Alcohol does not usually affect me this way. I suspect there must have been some other substance triggering an anomalous reaction.”

He was close enough that the faint lingering smell of Toniray wine could not quite mask what she thought was his natural scent. It was somehow earthy and clean, invoking old memories of rain on freshly tilled soil, with a hint of a musky note that tempted her to lean just a little closer. Instead, she cleared her throat again, licking dry lips before speaking.

“That is good. That you feel better. Not the adverse reaction. Not to worry, I think no harm was done, we got out of there before too many people started taking notice.” She added generously, “And I completely understand that it was the drink speaking earlier, no offense taken.”

“Was it?” Thrawn’s eyes had dimmed back to something nearer to their usual shade, so gradually that the change hadn’t quite registered. But as he spoke, she realized he was now almost back to normal, with none of the earlier signs of being affected by the wine. His voice, his eyes, the studied way he spoke, his voice low and somehow intimate in pitch as he continued.

“Would offense be taken, if it were not? If I were sincere and in full possession of my senses when I told you I could lose myself in the depths of your eyes, that I longed to run my fingers through your hair, to trace the shape of your face, the line of your throat, to press a kiss to your wrist, to explore the outer limits of the blush on your face?”

Pryce felt her heart race as Thrawn leaned very close, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered.

“Would I cause offense, if I told you I accepted this invitation because you would be here, and that my heart grows lighter whenever you are near? Even if I could never hope for anything more to come from it than the passing joy of your company.”

She drew a shuddering breath, then placed her hands on his chest, applying gentle pressure as if to push him away. When he started to yield, she stopped. Easier, after all, to speak while she could not see his face.

_Warm_ , the little voice whispered. He was warm to the touch. She spread her fingers a little, wondering at the feeling. The warmth seemed to seep from his body to hers, spreading to fill her with a sense of relief as she realized what her answer would be. The nervous fluttering stilled as the warmth reached her belly, replaced by warm, liquid longing that pulled her closer to him.

Her voice was steady as she spoke quietly against his ear in return. “I think I would not be offended.” She felt a smile pull at her mouth, threatening to turn into laughter. “I think we shall have to find out. Tell me again, Thrawn, so I may. It might take a few repetitions, until I am certain.”

They pulled apart a little then, just enough to look at each other. The smile she felt tugging at her lips was echoed on his. “I shall be happy to oblige… Arihnda.”

It was the most natural thing in the world when strong arms moved to surround her, and she leaned into the embrace. Studying his face as she saw it with new eyes, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Her lips parted a little at the thought, her face heating up again. And then he leaned close, and she raised herself on her toes to meet him halfway, and then…

The door to the outer room chimed.

Arihnda dropped back to her feet, reflexively pushing Thrawn back in her startlement. He growled some incomprehensive word, quietly and intensely, then let her go. He turned to retrieve his shirt and jacket as Arihnda took a few deep breaths, getting her bearings.

And then Governor Pryce went to answer the door, assuring their concerned host that everything was in order, and that the Grand Admiral would be rejoining the party momentarily. She walked back to the grand foyer with the Senator, chatting idly about the decor of the consulate.

 

* * *

 

Returning to making the rounds of the small clusters of conversation, she took care not to pay undue attention when the once more properly dressed Grand Admiral returned, making his own way around the room. She did not quite trust that she could keep her composure if she were to look directly at him again, in this gathering of people ready to exploit any perceived weakness.

Only at the end of the gathering, as the leaving guests were waiting for their turn to be picked up at the landing platform, did they speak again. Formally, coolly, for the sake of those who were close enough to listen in.

“Will you be staying long on Coruscant, Grand Admiral?”

“Unfortunately, I will not be able to enjoy the beauty of the Core as I had wished this time -- the _Chimaera_ returns to duty tomorrow.” He glanced at her before looking out over the shining towers of the city. “But I do hope to return before too long. There are experiments demanding my attention, the outcome of which I am most eager to learn.”

Pryce inclined her head to Thrawn as the distinctive shuttle of the _Chimaera_ came to a landing in front of them. “I would wish you luck, Grand Admiral, but a man of your talents hardly needs it. A positive outcome is to be expected.”

“You will be the first to know, Governor. Until then.”

“Until then.”

When the shuttle departed, she looked after it until it vanished, one tiny glittering star merging with a thousand others in the radiant Coruscant sky.

 

The End

 

★ ° . .　　　　.　☾ °☆ 　. * ● ¸ .　　　★　° :.　 . • ○ ° ★　 .　 *　.　　　　　. 　 ° 　. ● .　　　　° ☾ °☆ 　¸. ● .　　★　　★ ° ☾ ☆ ¸. ¸ 　★　 :.　 . • ○ ° ★　 .　 *　.　.　　¸ .　　 ° 　¸. * ● ¸ .　　　　° ☾ ° 　¸. ● ¸ .　　★　° :.　 . • ° 　 .

**Author's Note:**

> The randomly assigned drink for this fic was diluted Toniray wine. (https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Toniray_(diluted))


End file.
